


The Island of Misfit Dogs

by Ephemera_pop (Alex_Draven)



Category: Popslash
Genre: Alternate Universe - After College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Dogs, M/M, Secret Santa, mtyg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-25
Updated: 2014-12-25
Packaged: 2018-10-19 15:07:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10642371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alex_Draven/pseuds/Ephemera_pop
Summary: The door from the garage led into the mud room, and as JC opened the door, he could smell Chris’s chilli cooking.“Hey, that smells good!”Chris was at the stove, stirring up a big old pot of chilli, and he turned around with a grin.“Hey, sweetness!” Chris greeted him, balancing the wooden spoon across the top of the pot to come over and give JC a hug. All these years together, and the way that Chris just fit in his arms, the top of his head tucking under JC’s chin, and his arms squeezing tight around JC’s waist, still made him happy. Chris’s embrace loosened, and JC ducked down for a kiss, a domestic brush of the lips that the hedonistic club-kid JC had been in college would have thought was lame and tame, but which gave now-JC a warm, happy glow.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written for brandywine, for Make the Yuletide Gay, 2014

JC switched off his car, and took a few seconds to roll his shoulders and just be present in the moment before he headed into the house. Christmas wasn’t anything like as busy as tax season, but there wasn’t much less work to be done in November and December than the rest of the winter, and the holidays put everything off balance, so you end up working long hours because there’s always a client who needs something before they fly off to Tuscany for the holidays, or who doesn’t get their paperwork done before their extended family all arrive for Thanksgiving of something. JC got a lot of satisfaction from his work, but talking to clients was tiring, and his boyfriend deserved better than to have JC come home late, with his head buzzing with tax code variations. Their garage wasn’t exactly a zen oasis, but JC had his rituals, and a couple of minutes of mindfullness, noticing the tension between his shoulder blades, the soft sensation of his cotton shift cuffs around his wrist, the flow of air deep into his lungs, carrying the stress of the day out of his body on the outbreath. When he re-opened his eyes, JC felt himself smiling; happy to be home.

The door from the garage led into the mud room, and as JC opened the door, he could smell Chris’s chilli cooking.

“Hey, that smells good!”

Chris was at the stove, stirring up a big old pot of chilli, and he turned around with a grin.

“Hey, sweetness!” Chris greeted him, balancing the wooden spoon across the top of the pot to come over and give JC a hug. All these years together, and the way that Chris just fit in his arms, the top of his head tucking under JC’s chin, and his arms squeezing tight around JC’s waist, still made him happy. Chris’s embrace loosened, and JC ducked down for a kiss, a domestic brush of the lips that the hedonistic club-kid JC had been in college would have thought was lame and tame, but which gave now-JC a warm, happy glow.

“I’m fixing dirty rice and cornbread, too,” Chris said, as he turned back to the stove.

“OK, so - what did you break?”

“Hey!” Chris’s mock-offended pout was irresistible, and JC closed the gap to give him another hug. “I can’t just want to make you happy?” Chris squirmed in JC’s arms, turning around to glare up at him. “I can cancel the cornbread if you’re going to cast aspersions?”

“Hey, no aspersions,” JC chuckled back, “just appreciation.”

“That’s more like it.” Chris nodded firmly, and wriggled back around to stir the bubbling pot again. The chilli smelt really good, and Chris’s compact body pressed up against him was no bad thing either.

“My last appointment of the day cancelled on me,” Chris explained, “so I figured I could fix us something for dinner that didn’t come out of the freezer.” Sometimes Chris’s commute being all the way from the front of the house to the back had it’s perks. “Oh, and I caught up with Justin for a coffee earlier - the kid says hi, and when are you going to come out of your cave?”

They chatted for a while, as the chilli simmered, and Chris whipped up cornbread batter, and poured it into a sizzling baking tin. JC kicked off his shoes, pulled a couple of beers out of the fridge, and settled at the kitchen island. Much as he always wanted to be touching Chris, watching him bustling around their kitchen, being all competent and domesticated had its appeal as well.

Chris had dished up, and they were sat across the island from one another, where JC could tuck his bare foot around Chris’s ankle, when Chris dragged the conversation back from what they might be getting their nephews and nieces for Christmas - via the not entirely natural segue from Christmas presents to a dog being for life not just for Christmas - to some rescue kennels Justin had put him on to.

“You have to meet this guy, JC. You’ll love him! It’s like the Island of Misfit Dogs out there, and he just has so much love for all these mutts and sob stories. Like, there’s this pit-bull cross there who has approximately no ears, and only one eye, and scars all over her, and she’s crawling into his lap every time he sits down, just begging for tummy rubs. It’s too cute for words. You know I’ve been thinking about where we might be able to get therapy animals for some of the kids at the Centre? I really think this guy might be the answer to our prayers there. Heck, for the others, too. Can you imagine JayLa with a soppy pit bull in her lap? Because I really can, and I think it would be good for her.”

JC nodded happily, and took another forkful of smoky rich chilli. Chris’s enthusiasm was rooted in his passion for his work - he split his practice between offering high-end youth counselling out of his home office for kids whose parents had the premium insurance, and pro-bono work with a drop-in centre for homeless teens.

“So, we’re not doing anything Saturday, right?” Chris asked. JC tried to remember his calendar.

“I don’t think so,” he replied. “Want me to check?” JC reached for his phone.

Chris shook his head. “After dinner - I didn’t see anything when I looked earlier, though. I told AJ we could be over there about ten, so we could still swing by Joe’s for breakfast if you want to?”

“Huh?” JC felt like he’d missed something.

“Joe's? For breakfast? Like we do most Saturdays?”

“Yeah, no - not that. The other bit. Why are we visiting a rescue kennel?”

“Because Justin’s doing a photo shoot for them, and because you’re going to love AJ, and, I maybe kinda said that you might be able to help with their books?” Chris’s speech sped up through that sentence, and JC’s heart sank.

“Babe, you know I don’t work for free.”

“You do my books for free!” Chris protested, and JC gave him a half smile and reached out to poke Chris on the nose.

“That isn’t free - I get my reward for those hours.” JC’s smile faded. “You know the rules, Chris.”

JC’s boyfriend was generous to a fault, always looking for ways he could lend a hand, and help folks out. Back before they had gotten together properly, in the post-college years of periodic hooking up interspersed with relationships with people who were nothing like Chris that JC still regretted, that urge to help had come close to putting Chris’ new practice out of business. When they were finally in a place where they could talk honestly about how they could make a long-term relationship work, setting some boundaries around how much of his own time Chris should spend on good causes, and making it clear that respecting JC’s boundaries around his own professional giving were part of the conversation. The ethical boundary between being a psychologist and being a good friend had a few soft edges, but accountancy was a bit more binary, and JC wasn’t comfortable getting too all-up in his friends’ finances, even informally.

“I know.” Chris’s face was serious. “And I didn’t promise anything. I just want you to meet the guy, ok? It’ll be fun - you ever seen Justin at work? Because I am surely looking forward to that. We can get Joe and Lance and Kel and the kids to come over with us - doggy love for all, yeah?”

“Yeah, okay.” JC smiled indulgently. “We can go on Saturday, and I’ll hold leashes and brush dogs and whatever, but I’m not doing anyone’s accounts.”

*****

 

This AJ guy was clearly nuts. JC should have just assumed that as soon as he found out that Chris had met him through Justin, because people that both his boyfriend and his best friend glommed on to tended to be a pretty eclectic bunch, but JC tried not to pre-judge people. The sight of the full on circus waiting for them in the national park when they pulled up behind Joey’s SUV was enough to really test his resolve, though. For one thing, when JC thought about the kind of vehicle you might use to transport a bunch of rescue dogs to a photo shoot - and, honestly, how often did anyone think of that? - it had never occurred to him to picture a psychedelic rock-band’s RV with the band’s name roughly spray painted over, and the bunks stuffed with carry crates. But there it was, blocking the entrance to the trail with all its doors hanging open, and a tall bearded guy sitting on the back step.

Beyond the RV, JC could see a cluster of people, and someone setting up a barbeque in the shade of one of the large trees, and Bri’s bright red hair was recognisable even at this distance, but fit right in with some of the other people around her. It looked like at least fifteen, twenty people, which was a lot for a photo shoot for dogs looking for new homes, but not too many for a park party, which is honestly what the thing looked like.

“Hey!” Chris hollered, as he slammed the car door. “We in the right place for AJ’s photo shoot?”

Chris jogged ahead to shake the guy’s hand - not AJ, apparently - and by the time JC had hooked his water bottle to his belt and locked up the car, they were deep in conversation.

“So, this is JC,” Chris introduced him. “JC, Kevin. So, where can we be helpful?”

“Hi.” JC nodded to Kevin, while eyeing the beat-up RV with some discomfort. There were a ton of crates in there.

“Thanks for coming by. We’re still setting up, but if you don’t mind taking a couple of dogs up with you, that would be a great start.”

“Sure,” Chris agreed happily. “Who’s still waiting to go for a walk?” JC was still wondering if it was OK for this guy to just hand over dogs to random strangers who turned up and said they knew AJ, but Chris’s casual use of the magic word set of a chain reaction inside the van, which echoed with different pitches of barking and whining, and tails thudding against crates, and paws scrabbling.

Kevin seemed entirely unperturbed by the racket. “Give me a moment,” he said, before vanishing inside.

When he returned, he was carrying a battered gunge-green carry case in one hand, and holding a red nylon leash in the other. “Chris, could you take Moppet? He’s a bit agoraphobic, so we’ll let him stay in the carrier for a while.”

Chris stepped forward to claim his carrier, and Kevin turned back to the RV, leaving the leash loose, and holding out his other hand. “C’mon Katie, out you come. It’s ok, lady. C’mon Katie…”

The dogs left in the RV were starting to settle down - all except one yippy-dog who kept barking somewhere in the shady depths. Chris was crouched down trying to see inside his carrier, and once Kevin had coaxed her out of the shadows, Katie was apparently a three-legged mongrel dog, with a healthy dose of red setter in her family tree, to judge from her colouring and the long plumed tail. She was missing a back leg, and Kevin let her take the steps slowly, one hop at a time. She looked up at JC, hopefully.

“This is Katie,” Kevin said, redundantly. “She’s a little slow moving, still, but she’s a gentle soul, and doing super-well since the operation.”

“What happened to her?” JC asked, holding out the back of his hand for Katie to sniff.

“We don’t really know,” was Kevin’s unsatisfying answer. “She got dumped outside Walmart, with her hind quarters all cut up and infected. Most likely she was hit by a car or something, but that must have been a couple of days before someone tied her up in a parking lot. She nearly didn’t make it, but you know AJ.”

"Not really," JC said. "Chris and Justin know him. I haven't even met him, yet."

"No? Well, AJ doesn’t give up. She cost him another fortune in vet bills, even with the treatment hours I donate, but he always says you can't put a value on the love a dog gives."

JC gently fondled Katie’s satiny soft ears, and she pushed her skull up into his hand. “Poor girl,” JC murmured.

“Speaking of AJ…” Chris interrupted. “You ready to head up and meet him?”

They said their goodbyes to Kevin, and set off up the trail. Between Katie’s step-step-hop, and the unwieldy carrier Chris was toting, they made slow progress, but that gave JC time to take in the scene they were approaching.

Lance and Kelly were helping a couple of women JC didn’t recognise pitch a windbreak, and Joey had strolled over to chat to the folks with the barbeque. Most of the rest of the group were petting dogs, or holding leashes, and JC couldn’t immediately see any evidence of a plan. Justin was crouched down, wielding his camera, a little way away from the rest of the group, taking photos of a chocolate brown labrador.

December in Sacramento was balmy compared with Maryland, but the wind had a chill edge to it and the winter sun felt thin on JC’s face. Most everyone was wearing jackets, or at least hoodies, like Chris and JC were, but not the guy clapping his hands and whistling for the lab to look at him. No, he was wearing just black jeans and a black t-shirt, clinging to a compact, lithe torso, and leaving his tattoed arms bare. His dark hair was short, but spiked up, and a neatly trimmed beard framed his lips. JC swallowed hard.

“Cool - there’s AJ. Hi AJ!” Chris yelled, and headed towards the shoot in progress, carry case in hand. Both AJ and the labrador whipped their heads around to figure out who was doing all the shouting, but Justin didn’t move, and JC could just imagine the click of the shutter, capturing the dog’s alert posture and perked up ears.

JC and Katie followed Chris, and by the time they caught up, Chris had put down Moppet’s carrier, and was giving AJ a warm hug. JC swallowed again, because, seriously. Chris knew what JC’s type was, and AJ was wearing freaking nail varnish, and his hands were graceful and they moved across Chris’s back, and - JC made himself look away, and pet Katie briefly, to derail his own thought process. He wasn’t that butterfly club kid any more.

Chris was back at his side a moment later, his blunt fingers warm through the arm of JC’s jacket.

“You ok?” Chris asked, and then, when JC relaxed under his touch, and gave Chris a smile, continued, “Come and meet AJ!”

“You must be JC - it’s great to meet you.” AJ’s welcome came with a warm handshake, and a devastating smile that lit up his whole face.

“Good to be here - Chris has been really enthusiastic about what you’re doing. So, um, how can we help today?”

How JC and Chris could help was, apparently, hanging out with various dogs, teasing Justin, buying burgers and sodas from AJ’s friend Brian, who was fine-tuning his outdoor catering offer and fundraising for AJ’s rescue, while watching Kloey play with a couple of other kids, and Bri get sucked in to grooming dogs for their shoots, with Lance’s help. AJ kept saying that it was good for the dogs to get the socialisation, but it didn’t feel much like volunteering.

*****

By the time Justin had finished with all the dogs AJ had up for adoption, the wind was picking up, and grey clouds were threatening, so Brian roped Joey and a couple of other guys into helping him pack up, while Chris took a turn with a black bag, picking up paper plates and soda cans.

“Oh, hey, JC!” AJ called, looking around the emptying park. “Could you do me a huge favour? Can you go down to the truck and check with Kevin that he does have the keys?”

“Sure - can I take anything down with me?”

“I think maybe Justin could use a hand with his kit?”

“OK - I’ll be right back.”

JC stepped over the the pile of crates and bags that Justin was packing up. He’d started the shoot with just a camera and a couple of lenses, and then at various points he’d sent people back to his car to get tripods, and lighting reflectors, and props for the dogs, and a specialist grooming kit.

“Hey, Jus - what can I carry down the hill for you?”

“Thanks, Jace - you’re a real friend. Could you get that bag of dog toys?” Justin pointed out the bag he meant, and then fell into step beside JC, two camera bags slung across him, and carry cases in both hands. “Did you have a good day?”

JC smiled. “Yeah, I did. I wasn’t expecting to, really, but everyone’s been so friendly. AJ seems like he knows good people.”

“He knows me.” Justin shrugged easily. “So of course he knows good people. He is good people. Plus he wouldn’t let people who sucked be around his dogs. He is like the definition of dedication when it comes to the mutts - whatever they need, he’ll move heaven and earth to get that done.”

It occurred to JC that everyone at the photo shoot had deferred to AJ. “Does he run the rescue single handed, then?”

Justin nodded. “Uh huh. He’s on call twenty-four seven. I mean a bunch of people volunteer different stuff, but basically it’s just him. He’s been trying to get his shit together to go for this grant that would mean that he could hire a part-time assistant to help out, and extend and improve the buildings and stuff, but there are all these hoops you have to jump through. It’s worse than taking out a business loan, and you remember what a headache that was for me? And I’ve seen AJ’s filing system. He makes me look like some kind of accounts librarian.”

JC rolled his eyes. Whe he first set up his pet portrait and dog stylist compay, Justin had spent two solid weeks bitching about having to find various bills and contract templates even after he’d persuaded JC to read over his loan application file, so if Justin though AJ’s record keeping was messy… JC tried not to imagine opening a cupboard in AJ’s kitchen and having an endless avalanche of paperwork flow out and shuddered.

“What sort of hoops?” JC asked despite his own misgivings. “It sounds like that grant would make a big difference to AJ and to the dogs of Sacramento.”

“It would,” Justin agreed. “but I don’t know if it’s realistic. He has to submit professionally prepared and audited accounts, for one thing and I don’t know how much Brian raised with his feed-me fundraiser, but I bet it’s not even an hour of professional auditors, even if AJ could get his paperwork together. I think most people tend to donate either time or, like, dog food and old blankets. That might be worth something as a tax deduction, but it’s not exactly cash in the bank.”

“You know I don’t work for free, Justin.” JC gave his party line, but with a tug of reluctance.

Justin kept his eyes on the path, which was rough enough to be tricky to traverse when you were fully loaded like Justin was, and JC was grateful, because he wasn’t sure how he felt about what Justin was saying.

“Yeah, I know - neither do I usually. Not everyone’s addicted to helping like Chris is, but you can still give back, right? AJ’s good people, and I feel like I can make more of a difference using my specialist skills here than I would putting in a couple of hours shaking a can for the Salvation Army or something. We do something like this every six weeks, to make sure the dogs have good pictures for the website when they’re up for adoption. You should come along next time, too. I was thinking maybe the beaches at Folsom Lake might be a good location.”

“What happens to the dogs that don’t get adopted after six weeks?” JC asked, his heart sinking.

Justin shook his head. “AJ just keeps trying - at least, there are some dogs here I’ve photographed, like, four or five times, I swear. Like that ugly little critter Chris was bonding with all afternoon - I’ve take his photo at least four times, and he’s the sweetest little dog once he stops being scared of things. Mostly, they’re real softies, you know? I just want to help them find their forever homes. AJ misses them when they go, though. He keeps in touch with everyone who adopts.”

“But he hasn't sent one home with you?”

Justin smiled. “Jess doesn’t want a dog in the house until after the baby’s at least a toddler.”

“How’s she doing?” JC asked, and the grizzly details of pregnancy took up the rest of the walk back to the carpark.

Kevin did have the keys to the truck, which he tossed to JC one-handed, while wrestling with a Great Dane who didn’t seem to want to leave the park. JC trotted back up the trail, pausing for hugs all round with Joe and family, who were heading back to the parking lot. Chris was helping Lance swing Kloey every few steps, and JC knew better than to disrupt Kloey’s entertainment, so just dropped a quick kiss on Chris’s forehead as he passed them.

“Back in a few,” he said, and Chris blew him a kiss while Lance counted down to the next swing.

Back up the trail, Brian and his wife were the last people left near the tree, and AJ was walking around in loose circles where they’d been taking photos most recently - a vast fallen tree trunk, surrounded by tufts of long, dry grass.

“Kevin had them,” JC called out as he got closer, holding the key ring high.

“Thank you, Jesus!” AJ smiled back at him. “I couldn’t remember handing them over, and I don’t have a spare.”

“Eh,” Jc shrugged. “Triple A would get you, right?”

“If I had a membership they might. Good job I didn’t drop them in the grass, really! So - thanks for coming today. I only met Chris last week, and you guys really helped us out. Justin has some pretty cool friends, it seems.”

JC found himself smiling. “I just said the same thing to Justin about you and your guys. Thanks for letting us drop in and get in the way of your photo shoot.”

AJ waved his thanks away. “Dude, seriously - it’s a treat for the dogs to be out here and get all that attention, and whatshername - with the red hair?”

“Briahna?”

“That’s the girl - she was just great with them. I’m hoping I’ll see them again. She seemed really taken with Munchausen.” JC clearly looked blank, because AJ provided a gloss. “The blind Great Dane? I didn’t get to chat to her parents much, but I’m wondering if there isn’t space for a dog or two in that household.”

They fell into step, walking back down the trail, and JC shivered inside his jacket as the wind hit. It didn’t seem to bother AJ any, who was still bare armed.

“What about you and Chris?” AJ asked, and JC squinted at him. What about him and Chris? “You guys have a dog-shaped hole in your lives?”

JC shook his head, a little reluctantly. “Chris used to have pugs, but after Busta passed away… no. We thought about it, but we were both out of the house so much. Although, that was before Chris moved his practice.” JC trailed off, as he thought through what he was saying. “You know - Chris and I should talk about this again. Maybe the situation has moved on.”

“Yeah?” AJ looked over at him, and there was that smile again. “You do that, and then you come out to the rescue and meet everyone, and see who needs to go home with you both”

“So, um, you charge an adoption fee or ... how does it work?” JC asked.

AJ nodded. “Yup - $100 dollars a pop, if you pass the home inspection. You guys have a fenced yard, right?”

“Yeah, we do. How about I offer you a deal. If we adopt a dog, you give us a discount on the adoption fee, and I put a couple of hours a week getting your accounts into shape, and call up my friend Tony and see if his company would pro-bono an audit for you?”

AJ stopped dead. “Are you serious? Because I get the feeling I am getting a really good deal here.”

JC smiled broadly. “Well, you know what they say: you can’t put a price on the love a good dog gives.”

*****

At the bottom of the hill, Chris was waiting, leaning on JC’s car, and Kevin was sitting in the passenger seat of the ridiculous RV.

“Thanks again for coming out. And you talk to Chris, yeah?” AJ’s smile made his eyes crinkle, and he held out his hand. When JC took it, he was pulled into a quick embrace, which left the impression of AJ’s narrow body thrumming through JC, and the scent of his hair gel in JC’s nostrils.

“Thank you,” JC managed, and then tried not to watch as AJ turned away to walk back to the truck.

Chris was smiling when JC climbed into the passenger seat.

“So, you liked AJ then?” Chris’s grin was wicked and knowing, and JC knew he was being teased, but still, his cheeks heated. “I thought you would. You being a man of taste and all that. Although, you realise that he has, like, no ass? It's about his only flaw.”

“I wasn’t looking at his ass!” JC protested.

“You were looking at his hands and his lips and his ink, though, weren’t you?” Chris tugged JC’s wrist to get him to let go of the steering wheel, and interlaced his fingers with JC’s, resting on the center console. “I know your type, sweetness. AJ’s a damn fine example, and good people to boot. What’s not to like?”

“He’s not you?”

Chris squeezed JC’s hand. “That is kind of pathetically romantic, but thank you.“

“He was asking if we had space for a dog,” JC said, trying to change the subject some. “and I realised that - I may still be out too much, but now you’re working at home half the time, I’m not so sure it’s still true that we are, if you see what I mean.”

Chris’s smile was patient. “So today helped you realise that you’ve been missing having little furry rat-bastards underfoot, too, then?”

“Pretty much, yeah,” JC admitted. “Although some of the bigger dogs were cool, too.”

“Except you don’t have time to fit in a five mile hike every day, and I surely won’t.”

Chris had a point, but JC had a better one.

“Katie wouldn’t need that much walking.”

“And Moppet is terrified of open spaces, so he wouldn’t either.”

They looked at each other for a moment, and it was JC who broke the silence.

“Want to flag down AJ before he drives off?”

“Hell, yeah!” Chris’ agreement was immediate and enthusiastic. “I always wanted dogs for Christmas!”

*****


End file.
